


Son of Andrew

by Sabishiioni



Series: Hate and Love [2]
Category: The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: Gen, Minor Sexual Content, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2018-02-07 06:41:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1888815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sabishiioni/pseuds/Sabishiioni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders meets his biological father. Sequel to "Finding Peace".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Son of Andrew

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own The Almighty Johnsons  
> Warnings: Read them  
> Follow Me:[Tumblr](http://sabishiioni.tumblr.com/)  
> Follow PI:[Tumblr](http://projectinsanitywriting.tumblr.com/)  
> Mindless Babble: Welcome to the first official post of Project Insanity!

“Mr. Agneton? Your 10 o’clock appointment is here.”

“Which one is that again?”

The receptionist sighed, rolling her eyes. “Mr. Johnson with JPR…”

“Oh…right. Send him in.”

The blond woman shook her head before forcing a smile. “Mr. Agneton will see you now.”

Anders graciously pretended he hadn’t heard the entire exchange and walked down the hall. He stopped to adjust his tie, taking a deep breath. He tried to force his hands to stop shaking, chiding himself for being so nervous. He was Bragi for fucks sake.

He opened the door and stepped in. One look at the man putting golf balls into a coffee mug and Anders knew his mother was telling the truth. Blond hair, blue eyes- he was everything Agnetha said he would be, though he was taller than Anders expected.

The man looked up after his last ball went into the cup. “So, how can I help you, Mr. Johnson? I should warn you now that I am very pleased with my own PR department.”

“Actually, I didn’t come here to talk business…”

“You know, I used to sleep with a woman named Johnson…What was her name…?”

Anders swallowed before he softly offered up, “Elezabet?”

“Yeah! That’s it!” Mr. Agneton turned to scowl at Anders. “And how did you know that?”

“Because she was my mother.” 

Mr. Agneton’s face relaxed. “Oh- so you must be Mike.”

“Actually, that’s my older brother.” He took a breath before continuing. “My name is Anders…which means ‘son of Andrew’…”

A shadow passed over the other man’s face. “But her husband’s name was Joe or something.”

Anders tilted his head in the man’s unwitting confession that he knew he was sleeping with a married woman. “Yes, it is Johan. But your name is Andrew…”

Anger flared in those blue eyes that matched his own causing Anders to take an involuntary step backwards. “So what? You think you’re my son?”

“I know I am…Mom told me yesterday. She even told me where to find you.”

“OH? And how did she know that?” Agneton snarled. “Has she been stalking me? Planning on claiming a part of my fortune through you?!”

“N…No!” Anders took another step back. “She…she wouldn’t need to- she’s Freya!”

That stopped the older man. “Wait…she’s a goddess?”

Anders nodded. “Of wealth, as one of the titles she claims.” 

Agneton’s eyes narrowed. “Which makes you which god?”

Lowering his eyes, Anders softly replied. “Bragi, god of poetry.”

“And what power do you have?” He sneered as he encroached on Anders’ space.

“I…I can bend the will of mortals to my own…” His eyes were blow wide with fear at the realization that his back was pressed against the wall.

“Well, now isn’t that a special gift. That could come in handy-“

“It only works on those that also want it to bend, even if just a little,” Anders interrupted, his strong aversion to being used overcoming his fear for the moment.

Tyr laughed harshly as his hand tightened around the younger man’s throat, lifting him off his feet. Anders grabbed the arm, desperately trying to get away. The older god slammed the younger into the wall, rattling the pictures and awards on it.

“Bah! You’re as pathetic as you mother! All I had to do was give her a malformed piece of silver and tell her that it would protect her for her to spread her whore legs for me!”

Anders stilled, his shock greater than his will to survive. The necklace their mother had given Ty to protect him from their father had been given to her by his own father? A sharp pain lanced through his chest that had nothing to do with the lack of air getting to his lungs. The necklace that should have been his had been given to their mother’s favorite son. Somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind, he knew it shouldn’t bother him, yet it was as painful as one of Elezabet’s slaps.

“Oh! You know about that stupid trinket, do you? I wondered if she kept it...” The hand relaxed, lowering him to the floor but remained pinning him to the wall.

“She gave…she gave it to my younger brother…” 

Tyr laughed. “Ha! You must be my son-all the gods laughing and turning their backs on you!”

Anders managed to turn his head so he could hide how much that hurt. He always knew where he stood with his family. His mother would always throw him to the wolf that was her husband in order to protect Ty and Axl. Mike never protected him; neither had Olaf. This was just one more piece of evidence that proved that only his god soul held value to his family.

“Did I hit a nerve?” Tyr forced Anders to look at him. His other hand harshly groped the younger man between his legs. ”Maybe that’s all that’s needed to get here as well? A little trinket? A promise of something better?”

When Anders cried out, Agneton abruptly let go, stepping back. His face held a look of horror as the smaller man fell to his knees, gasping. The elder retreated to behind his desk. “Leave. And if you if you speak a word of what happened here, I will hunt you down and kill you. Do I make myself clear?”

Anders nodded as he scrambled to his feet. He took a moment to straighten his clothes before he all but ran from the building.

***  
Mike held his rail thin brother, gently rocking him as Anders cried into his flannel shirt. The eldest Johnson had woken to the terrified screams of his brother, flailing in the hospital bed, a captive of a memory induced nightmare. This horror led to the tearful story and the trembling man in his arms. He rubbed soothing circles on his brother’s back just as he had done when they were kids.

“It’s alright, Anders. He’ll never get to you, I promise!”

Watery blue eyes stared up at him, full of disbelief and fear. Mike knew he deserved that look. He, the one who should have been watching over Anders, failed in that. He had let his brother be emotionally scarred by both Elezabet and his actual father, physically abused by the man their mother married, and, if he were honest with himself, both emotionally and physically abused by his three siblings. It was no wonder that Anders didn’t believe him.

He brushed back the blond hair that had grown out enough that it was starting to curl. “I deserve that look, but Anders, you are my brother. I forget that sometimes and I hate the lengths it took you to remind me. I hate that you had to remind me. I know that I take you for granted and I really hate how that’s become second nature to me.” 

Anders started to let go of Mike to lean back, but his brother wouldn’t let him go, not all the way. He held onto the boney hands that were now bruised from the nightmare driven thrashing. He held on as tightly as he could without causing more damage, not wanting his brother to slip away again.

“I will swear on anything you want me to just so you know I will never let that man hurt you again.” 

“He hurts me every day, Mike. Every time someone says my name, I’m reminded that I am his son. Every time I look at Olaf, I wonder if he would’ve protected me from Johan if I was actually of his blood. I…I…” He broke off, lowering his head as more tears ran down gaunt cheeks.

“Blame me, not him. I should’ve been the one protecting you. Mom should’ve protected you like she did Ty.” Mike leaned forward, drawing his brother back into a hug, one Anders returned. “And don’t think about what your name means. I mean, if Joe had been your father, you might’ve been named Joeson or something!”

He was rewarded with a shuddering of laughter from his brother. He loosened his hold enough so he could see Anders’ smile. The blond shook his head.

“‘Joeson’? Really, that was the best you could come up with?” He chuckled. “It sounds Japanese.”

“Hey! It was the best I could come up with on the spot! You’re the god of words, not me.” His entire body relaxed, overjoyed to see the man who had tried to repeatedly kill himself laughing.

They both looked up as the door to Ander’s room opened letting Olaf, Ty and Axl in. All three wore unseasonably warm jackets. The reason became clear as all three pulled out bags of take away. They shucked out of the overheated clothing and started sorting out the food, much to Anders’ delight and Mike’s concern.

“Um guys? Anders hasn’t really been cleared for solid food…”

“Don’t care! Have you seen the food they’ve been forcing me to eat?” The slender hand took the offered burger.

Mike sighed, a soft smile blossoming as he took his own sandwich. It was a pale shade of who he once was, but maybe they could return what had been lost, making it stronger than before. He watched as Anders inhaled the hamburger, mock glaring at the teasing Axl was giving him. Ty elbowed the youngest brother, causing his older brother to laugh again. Olaf used the distraction to try and steal some of blonde’s fries which earned him a weak slap. Their grandfather meekly returned to his chicken burger with an overly dramatic sigh, causing another round of laughter.

He caught his brother’s blue eyes and saw something that had been missing for a long time. It was a just a glimmer, but now that he was looking for it, he actually saw it. Equal parts of trust and hope. Reaching out, he caught the thin hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Anders tilted his head, finally accepting Mike’s oath by offering some of the sacred fries. Laughing as Olaf protested, Mike knew in his heart that they would get through this as long as they stayed a family. And this time…

They would.


End file.
